


Falling Together

by SweetInsanityWrites (SweetInsanityArts)



Series: New Beginnings [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, Cheesy Romance Stuff, Consensual Sex, Crossdressing Kink, Fluff and Smut, I blame RBB chat, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sex Worker Bucky Barnes, dates and art and soft boys, i dont know how tags work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 11:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetInsanityArts/pseuds/SweetInsanityWrites
Summary: Part 3 of New Beginnings - my modern setting sexworker AU(This is where the main part of the plot will happen)Steve tries to reconnect with Bucky after they'd been seperated so long, hoping their relationship will evolve into something more than being friends, but his friend's time away may be more complicated than he says.





	Falling Together

**Author's Note:**

> well, this escalated quickly
> 
> edit: continuity error with Clint and Nat has been pointed out to me, I apologize for messing that up, originally the whole thing wasn't even supposed to be a full story but now both of them suddenly matter to the plot, whoops

 

Steve woke to find the bed empty. He looked around in confusion, memories of the past night flooding through his body, making him feel warm and bubbly. 

Shuffling through the mess of sheets and clothes that they’d left, he tried to find at least his boxers and a shirt. 

 

“There’s fresh boxers and undershirts in the bottom drawer.” Bucky called from the other side of the wall. “Feel free to borrow something.”

Steve smaller frame had always made it difficult to steal clothes from Buck, who was taller and more muscular, but that had never stopped him from trying.

 

Dressed in bright red panties (the only thing tight enough to fit), and a loose hanging shirt, Steve padded into the kitchen.

“You still take your coffee the same way?” Bucky smiled. He was in his boxers, making pancakes, looking like the book cover for a cheap romcom novel. 

“Extra strong, tiny bit of milk?” Steve suggested. He couldn’t help stare at the exposed chest, remembering what it had felt like to rest his head against his and hear the steady heartbeat. 

He sat down at the small table, unable to tear his gaze away from the half naked men and his frying pan.

 

“How are you feeling?” Buck said with a smirk as he sat down, serving the coffee and food.

Steve bit his lip nervously, blushing even darker. 

“The same but. Changed.” It was hard to explain. He tried to grasp for words but couldn’t hold on to anything that felt right. “Happy.” He settled, meeting Bucky’s eyes with a soft smile.

 

“Me too.” He whispered.

The softness in Bucky’s voice sent a shiver  down Steve’s spine.

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Thought you cant cook?” 

 

Bucky chuckled and nodded.

“Oh, I didnt, uhm, these are actually premade, I just warmed them in the pan to look cooler.”

He said with a lazy grin.

That explained the unrealistically perfect shape these damn pancakes had.

 

“Shit, look at the time, Tony’s waiting for me.” Buck moaned and jumped to his feet. “He wants to test a new prototype, he improved the sensitivity of the fingertips to be able to sense texture. Real Sci-Fi shit .” His eyes lit up with a hit of excitement. 

Bucky had always been a science nerd. Getting to be part of a project like this must be a dream come true for him.

 

Still, Steve couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

“I’m glad you and Tony are getting along so well. After all that happened.”

He said, unconvincingly. 

 

Already in the process of putting on his clothes, Bucky stopped, his face amused but understanding.

“He’s changed. Grown a lot.” He explained kindly. 

Before Steve could reply, the other man had slipped into a pair of sneakers and was chasing towards the door. 

“Take your time with the breakfast, feel free to borrow clothes from me, if you need anything, there’s a screen in the living room that’s connected with the house AI.”

 

Bucky opened the door to his apartment, froze, and darted back to press a gentle kiss on Steve’s forehead, making his head go too fuzzy to wonder about what the hell a house AI was.

 

***

 

If Bucky was completely honest with himself, he had not felt complete, had not felt  _ alive _ , when he returned. He owed Tony a great deal for getting him out of his hole and back into the world. 

 

It was an unlikely friendship between the two of them. 

Tony had been homeschooled most his life, when his parents decided going to a public High School would be good for him, he despised everybody there. 

The money and status his family had, he had soon gathered a following of admiring fans, and naturally, anyone who didnt worship the ground he walked on was punished with angry glares and snarky remarks. They got into fights a lot. 

 

When Tony’s parent’s got killed in a runaway car accident and they found Bucky’s father guilty, dislike turned into hatred.

The feuds and fighting went on even after graduation. It wasn’t until later when Tony realized Bucky had been just as much a victim of his father’s drinking habits that they began to get along. 

 

Hearing the familiar voice as he entered the workshop filled him with warmth. 

“Hey there, Buckaroo. Jarvis told me you brought a guest home last night and had him switch off. Thought we had a deal about not having clients in the tower?” 

As always, Tony was covered in grease, tools strapped over his chest like an ammunition belt.The blueprints for the new prototype and sketches for variations of it were stuck on every available surface. 

 

“He wasn’t a client, he was a date.” Buck said seriously. “Steve found me.” 

He still felt shaky about the whole thing. His mind had been racing ever since they’d been reunited and he still felt extremely unsure if he was doing the right thing.

 

Tony arched his brow, concern shadowing his face. “So what, you just kissed and made up?”   
“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Well, we saw that coming a while ago. Kinda.” The scientist shrugged. “How long was that slow-burn mutual pining thing going on? 10 years?”

Bucky rolled his eyes at him.

“Steve needed time. So did I, I think. I was … reckless. Back then.” 

He wondered if things would’ve been different. If he’d just told him how he felt. He had been wondering that ever since he’d left for the war. Maybe that was why he’d been so eager to ask Steve out, despite everything.

 

“So why aren’t you happier with the whole thing?” Tony lay down his tools, gesturing to the free chair to his right. “Wanna tell old Dr. Stark? I might’ve picked up a thing or two in therapy.” 

Bucky sighed and obliged. He might as well.

“I’ve waited for this for years, Tony, what if I mess it up? What if I hurt him?” He voiced the worries that had been troubling him for days. “I still have night terrors, I toss and turn and scream and knock things off the nightstand. Last night when he lay in my arms I barely slept at all, I was afraid I’d end up punching him in my sleep.”

 

“May I remind you that Steve is no longer the fragile, sick kid you left behind? Shield kept their end of the bargain, he’s just as strong and healthy as any other man.”

“He’s still  _ Steve _ .”

“Hey man, I know it’s scary. Felt the same way when I started dating Pepper. But when I slept next to her those were the most quiet nights I’d had in years. And if i did lash out, she woke me up.” 

It was these rare moments of complete honesty and vulnerability that made bucky feel honoured Tony considered him a friend. He knew it was hard for the sarcastic inventor to show emotion like that.

“It’s not entirely up to you to decide what Steve can handle, you know?”

 

***

Bucky woke to the now very familiar bleeping of machines.

 

“Dont move.” 

 

He twisted his head, blinking against the neon light in confusion.

Steve was sitting, cross legged, on a gray chair next to his bed, sketchbook balanced between his legs.

“Are you drawing me?” Bucky asked hoarsely, trying to clear the grogginess from his head.

  
“I’m drawing the skyline, your giant head is blocking the view.” Steve said without looking up.

“Tony let you in?”

“The creepy display thing in your living room told me to come down. Called me your girlfriend.” 

 

Bucky let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. 

It wouldn’t surprise him if Tony had already changed his relationship status on various social media for him.

 

“Also, the ceiling can talk? You didn’t tell me you lived in the 22nd century.” 

Steve said accusingly, looking up from his sketch to point his pencil at him.

“Might have forgotten to mention that I am working for an evil supervillain genius.” 

Bucky replied with a grin.

“That explains why they had me sign like five forms before letting me in, I’m pretty sure I sold them my soul and possibly bought a new dryer.” 

 

Steve nodded towards a box on Bucky’s nightstand.

“Nurse said you should play around with these things, see if you can feel anything. Do they always just cut you up and then leave you to deal with things on your own?”

He asked accusingly, crossing his arms. 

Bucky held back a chuckle. Steve was helplessly adorable when he was trying to be intimidating. 

“I’ve done quite a lot of these procedures.” He picked up the box and began twirling it’s contents between his fingers. “By now I think I know how it works.”

 

With enough pressure, he could actually feel the bumpy surface of the wooden car he was clenching in his left hand. 

Tony had done it again.

“He made the skin, you know.” Bucky explained, picking up a spiked metal ball. “Durable but soft. Then he added the simulated body heat. Makes my job a helluva lot easier when people dont flinch at cold plastic on their skin.” He could see the indentations on the artificial skin and felt the pressure. Not the way he did with his human hand, certainly not in a way that was painful, but it was a start. 

The softer surfaces however, stuffed animals and faux fur, felt like nothing under his fingertips.

 

“Think of the possibilities, Steve!” He urged, seeing Steve’s frown. “Like, a surgeon who lost use of his hands? Help him work again he can save hundreds of lives!”

Steve laughed and nodded. 

“Sounds like the plot of a comic.” 

 

***

 

Steve groaned and reluctantly restarted his computer, massaging his temples to soothe the rage building up. Technology hated him. It was like a curse that had stuck with him every since he’d gotten his first notebook back in High School.

When Windows announced it was making an important update, he gave up all hope and fled to the break room.

 

Sam was there, making coffee, greeting him with an amused grin. 

“It’s acting up again?” 

“I dont get what I’m doing wrong. Every few weeks or so, the damn thing starts acting up. And nobody can figure out why.” He sighed and slouched down on the beat-up leather couch, grateful that his job offered at least some flexibility with his working times, leaving him room to move his breaks around as he saw fit. 

 

“Y’know, you could just swallow your pride and ask the boss to get you a new one.” 

Sam sat down at the coffee table, cradling his cup in both hands. 

Steve shook his head. He really didn’t want to be a bother. He especially didn’t want to be defeated by a damn machine.

 

His coworker chuckled and rolled his eyes. 

Steve liked Sam. He was a good guy, reliable, with a sense of humour.

Bit of a geek, but not the kind that only wore ironed shirts and lived with his mum at the age of 26 (not that Steve had anything against Bill from I.T.).

 

Sam was a vet, started working as web developer in Steve’s team only a few months after Steve had signed his own contract. The men had hit it off right away, their fast growing friendship distracting Steve from the hurt he felt after Bucky refused to answer his letters. 

He really owed Sam a lot for getting him out of his pity party. 

 

“So anyway,” He began, taking a sip from his black coffee. “How was your vacation?” 

Steve blushed. He hadn’t told anyone what exactly he’d taken the week off for, only that he wanted some time to free his creative spirits. No one ever really questioned an artist’s decisions, most of the higher-ups thought the design team was completely on drugs anyway. 

Sam hadn’t asked but Steve had the uncomfortable feeling he might at least have guessed  _ something  _ was going on that he did not want to talk about. 

 

“It was… eventful.” He said carefully. “Actually, are you free tonight, after work?”

“That big, huh?” A look of concern shadowed Sam’s face. “Of course.” 

 

***

 

Sam and Steve were regulars at the quiet bar around the corner from their workplace. 

It was simple and clean, expensive enough to keep drunk sports fans away, but not so expensive that hipster teens with their macbooks tried to write their blog entries there. 

 

Still, they chose a table in a far corner, seeking some peace from the few customers who  _ were  _ there, laughing and yelling merrily.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?” Sam asked kindly. He volunteered doing some group therapy things with vets and homeless people and occasionally, troubled teens. Sometimes it caused him to uncomfortably overanalyze every sentence Steve said, but mostly it made him a very good listener. 

 

“I ran into Bucky again.” Steve said slowly. No need to tell him the details of when and where and why. 

“The guy who stopped writing.” Sam said. “What did he have to say?” 

“That he was sorry. That he was scared and broken. He lost his arm. They sent him back.” 

When Steve had first told Sam about Bucky, the experienced vet had suggested that it was Bucky’s own mental health that was keeping him from staying in touch, rather than his feelings for Steve. 

Still, it had been hard not to be hurt and angry. It still was. 

 

“He doin’ better now?” 

“I think so.” Steve shrugged. “Job and internships and a plan for the future.” 

“It’s a good start.” Sam agreed. 

 

They drank their beers in quiet for a while. 

The waitress brought them their fries, batting her eyelashes at Sam, her eyes wandering between his bicep and his eyes. The chances that there would be a phone number on their bill seemed high. 

Not that Steve could blame her. Sam was certainly gorgeous. It was a shame that he seemed to only go for girls (not that Steve would ever ask him though). 

 

“We kinda also went on a date.” He said at last. “He asked me out and I said yes and then we went to the pier and had a picnic. We went back to his place and... “

Sam arched his brow. “You slept with the guy on the first date?”

 

Well. Depends on what you count as date. 

 

Steve blushed, hanging his head so the messy strands of hair fell over his eyes. +

“It just… it felt right? It did. He was there and he was amazing and I- I really wanted to.”

He felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m not judging you, I was just surprised.” His voice was kind and gentle. 

 

Steve looked up at him, the tension melting from his shoulders. 

“He was my first. This… This was my first. Time.” He confessed. 

Sam chuckled warmly. “Yeah, bro, I figured.” 

“You did?”

“You kinda had that adorable insecurity thing going when we talked about dating. It’s okay, nothing wrong with that.” He explained. “You have feelings for him?” 

 

Steve bit his lip. There was something. Something that was strange and new and overwhelming. But he was unsure, scared, wondered if it was pure attraction based on the fact that for the first time ever, someone actually  _ wanted  _ him. 

 

“He’s been my best friend since we were little.” He whispered. “He’s always meant the world to me. Now I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like, for the first time, I can really  _ see  _ him.” 

With a groan, he buried his head in his hands. 

“Ugh, listen to me, I sound like I’m in a damn RomCom.”

 

“People are complex things, man. You can go as John Green on the man as you like, weave your fancy artsy metaphors, but ya cant really bring an actual person down on paper. It’s not that easy.” Sam said softly. “Communication is the key to any relationship, really. Ask the guy what he feels. What he wants. Where this is going. Not the romantic slow-burn pining you’d find in a bookstore but I personally do prefer complete honesty.” He added.

 

Steve nodded thoughtfully, sipping his drink. He had no idea how relationships actually worked for normal people. In movies they always seemed so simple, just people writing love letters, making grand gestures, running through goddamn airports to catch a last-minute flight. 

Others kept telling him about communication and trust and hard work, but nobody ever actually explained  _ how _ .

Sam was probably right. He’d have to talk to Bucky eventually. But what if he didn’t like the answer? 

 

***

 

The next few days kept Steve busy. Work was stressful, he spent his evenings on his painting, Sam asked him for help with a charity event. 

Bucky and Steve kept texting, silly conversations about work and why cats were quite possibly aliens that had been sent to earth to observe the human race. 

 

Talking to Bucky became part of his routine, that constant presence, just like he had been when they were kids. 

Steve found himself more and more excited but also terrified to see him again and ask the question that had been haunting his mind since they’d reunited. 

 

“Ah, a happy customer returns?” Bill said with a wink as as Steve walked through the door.

“Uhm, actually I’m just here to see-”

“James, I know. I’m just messin’ with ya. He’ll be with you soon, you can wait at the bar if you like. Maggie’ll fix ya a drink.” The kind man pointed to the large area he’d let him through on his last visit. It wasnt as crowded and loud this early in the day, the redheaded dancer sat on the edge of the stage, talking to the only current guests, music loud enough to muffle their conversation but not so loud as to make them shout over it. 

 

Willing himself not to feel as nervous as he did, Steve sat down at the bar where an elderly woman greeted him.

“You are just as gorgeous as James told us you were!” She smiled. 

“How did you know-? He… talked about me?” Something fluttered in his chest.

“Of course he did.” Maggie said kindly. “We knew there was someone from his past he was afraid to reconnect with, we were all very happy for him when he finally did.”

 

“So you’re the pretty boy James keeps going on about.” A voice sounded from behind him. The redheaded dancer joined Steve at the bar, grabbing a bottle from behind the counter. There was a subtle sheen on glitter, making him wonder if it ever washed out of those curls. 

“My name’s Natasha. Nice to meet you at last.” She eyed him up and down, shamelessly scanning him with fierce eyes.

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you?” 

“James told me so much about you.” The dancer said with a grin.

“Oh so, you’re friends?”  

“Sure.”  She winked at him, before catwalking back to the stage, the guests hollering cheerfully at the sight of alcohol.

 

“‘tasha likes to pretend she’s a real mystery.” Maggie chuckled. “But you know she is just as much of a sweetheart as James.” 

Steve cocked his head to the side, feeling a soft twing of concern. 

“They… spend a lot of time together?” 

“Oh they knew each other before they got here. Signed up to work for us together. Sometimes they do jobs together, seem to have some kind of personal connection.” Seeing the frown on Steve’s face she added “Don’t worry, kid, James is not that kinda guy.”

 

The James she knew from work might not be, the Bucky Steve had shared an apartment with had certainly been. 

 

Bucky appeared shortly after, back in his hoodie and jeans with leftover glitter on his cheeks. 

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to abduct your man here, Mags.” He announced, holding his hand out to Steve. 

“You’ll forever be in my heart!” Steve told her dramatically and took Bucky’s hand.

Maggie laughed cheerfully. “You boys have fun, stay safe!” 

 

“I like her.” Steve chuckled as the two men made their way through the streets of Brooklyn.    
“She’s very kind.” Her and Bill gave Steve a strong sense of safety and family. He could see why Bucky liked the place so much. 

“Yeah, she is very kind. But fierce too, you get on her wrong side, she’ll make you pay. Drunk guys with an ego don’t stand a chance when Big Mags comes running with a half empty tequila bottle!”

“How often does that happen?” 

“Oh once is more than enough, you see that happen once, you don’t forget.”

 

It was still early in the morning, the sun casting it’s first golden rays between the buildings, dancing on Bucky’s face. He looked like he was made from liquid gold. Like an angel.

Steve made a mental note to paint him as a fiery angel some day. 

He kept looking over at him while they walked, wanting to take in as many details as possible. It still felt surreal to him, being here, with his oldest friend, walking hand in hand.

It didn’t make sense.

 

“How long have you known Natasha?” He asked carefully. 

There was something about the gorgeous redhead that still hung in his mind, something that was drawing him in. It wasn’t jealousy, sure he’d felt a bit intimidated by her, but mostly he just had the feeling there was a story that he longed to find out about. 

 

Something flickered over Bucky’s face. 

“She was part of my … team. When I was overseas. My partner in crime, basically.” His voice changed talking about her, a strange mixture of hardness and affection. “We were a good team. Well, she hated me at first, but then I put a bullet through her to get her out of a hostage situation and we’ve sorta been friends ever since!” 

Steve flinched. “You shot her?”

“I shot  _ through  _ her. This dude had his gun pointed at her head, was using her as a shield. I knew Nat is fast but not fast enough to dodge a bullet that close range. So I shot through her, into his head.” He shrugged nonchalantly, even though his voice betrayed him. “When I got blown up and sent home, she followed me.”

 

Steve’s mind supplied him the surreal scene, Bucky and Natasha, clad in armour, carrying heavy guns, fighting their way through waves of bad guys. He scolded his own head for the incredibly clichéd hollywood image. Sam had taught him better than this.

 

He’d noticed there was something about his friend that was much more serious than he used to be. More distanced. A bit of energy that was missing. It made him wonder if Natasha had been different before the war. 

 

Their reached their destination, a small, worn down building that housed the cozy art studio. 

A few students had launched a gofundme a few years ago to buy the place and managed to create a safe space to paint, sculpt and create, determined to keep the elitism and judgement of the art community away as much as possible. 

 

Sometimes the studio was filled with people, but this early in the morning it was blissfully empty. 

Paintings and sculptures in various stages of work in progress lines the rooms. 

 

“It’s beautiful here.” Bucky whispered. “Like a house full of stories. Little pieces of people’s souls.” 

“That is somewhere between romantic poetry and creepy serial killer monologue.” Steve commented, guiding them upstairs where he kept his own pieces. The large windows flooded the room with fiery light, making the mess of smudged paint on the furniture look almost aesthetic. 

 

Bucky had insisted to catch up on Steve’s art, to see what he had made in the time they’d been apart. He sat down on the paint-stained carpet, the large portfolio folder spread out before him and slowly shuffled through the pieces, letting each one sink in. 

“These are beautiful.” He said quietly. Carefully, he lifted a watercolour piece and held it up to Steve, a question on his face. 

“I was scared. When you left.” He explained. “For the first time in my life I was truly alone.”

 

He’d drawn multiple pieces like that, blurred, twisted, dark shapes coming from the shadows, reaching out to corrupt something that was pure and innocent, mostly angels or faeries, sometimes more cheesy things like unicorns or swans. 

There were also paintings of Buck, half pure white and angelic, half pitch black and demonic. 

Steve was glad those pieces were buried somewhere deep in his drawers at home. 

 

“What brought you back?” Bucky asked, tapping the pieces that slowly started to turn more cheerful. 

“Sam Wilson.” 

“That the hot guy I saw on your profile?” Bucky grinned. “He’s cute!”

“He’s not into guys, I don’t think.” Steve laughed, trying hard not to blush. 

Buck shook his head. “They all say that at first.” 

 

“Sam forced me to leave the house.” Steve continued, eager to get away from that particular topic. “He dragged me to his group therapy sessions, forced me to go on runs with him, sometimes I even had to go to parties and other scary social events.”

“Oh god no, those terrifying people who do such horribly unnatural things like go outside and exercise. I bet he eats vegetables too, the monster!” Bucky gasped dramatically.

Steve nudged his shoulder. 

 

“Speaking of awful social events,” Buck said, “Tony is having this dinner party thing, something about a new collaboration. Me being his favourite test subject, I will be required to be there. And well, Tony will have Pepper with him, Nat will bring Clint, I bet even that internet of his won’t come alone.” 

He looked up at Steve with his best charming smile. 

“I know you’re not a big fan of these things, but would you  _ please  _ come with me and be my date?” 

 

Steve considered for a moment.

He truly did not like social gatherings and the thought of having to be around  _ Tony  _ again didn’t make it much better.

But then again, it would be an evening he could spend with Bucky, a chance to further explore this new, strange thing between them. He’d only have to make sure not to make a complete fool of himself and ideally stay away from people. 

 

“I would love to. Under one condition: ” Steve said with a mischievous grin. “You have to wear the high heels. Those leather ones.”

“Joke’s on you, I look amazing in heels!” Bucky declared, holding out his hand. “Deal.”

With a nervous flutter in his chest, Steve shook his hand, their eyes locking. 

 

The sun had started to rise but the soft leftover glitter still glistened in shades of orange and gold. It was one of those rare moment where the Bucky Steve had known since his earliest childhood came through, open and unafraid. 

He leaned forward, careful not to lean on any of the artworks on the ground, gently locking their lips., his hand curling into the soft locks.

 

Bucky pulled Steve in and they dropped flat on the floor in a tangle of limbs. 

Steve pushed his hand under the soft hoodie, letting his fingertips glide over the warm skin. He could feel the soft scarring on Bucky’s shoulder where the prosthetic was attached. 

His insecurities fell away, he sat up a little, grabbing the seam of Bucky’s hoodie and tugging demandingly. 

 

With a chuckle, Buck obliged, pulling it over his head. 

Steve stared for a moment. his fingertips carefully tracing the lines on the naked chest. 

 

Now, Bucky truly looked angelic, bathed in golden light, the soft sheen of glitter letting it dance over his skin. There was something soft and vulnerable in his expression. 

It was the most beautiful sight. 

 

“You looked like you’re made of gold.” Steve whispered. “Only softer. Warmer.”

A strong wave of affection washed over him, making his chest flutter, his body filling with warmth. 

“Bucky…?” He said quietly, his heart beating so loudly, he was sure the world could hear it. 

“I think … I’m falling in love with you.” The words sent a shudder down his spine. 

 

“Me too, Stevie.” Bucky’s voice was quiet and gravelly. 

Steve chuckled softly. “Well, you’ve always been in love with yourself, that’s nothing new.”

“Shut up, punk.” Bucky pulled him in, kissing him softly. “I’m falling for you, Stevie. I’m falling every day.” He whispered against Steve’s lips.

 

They kissed, bathed in golden light, falling together.

**Author's Note:**

> a lot more plot flowed into this than I anticipated but something about this really drew me in and I couldn't help myself
> 
> hope you're all still enjoying this as much as I do, I know my fluff can get so cheesy it's probably cringey but I cant help myself


End file.
